by Con Riley
“Trevor?” Jude scrubbed at his face like rubbing sleep dust away might help make sense of his sister.
“Seriously, Jude. Will you hurry? Marc’s waiting to drive us.” She was gone before he could ask more questions.
“Well,” Rob said as he sat up. “You heard the woman.” His kiss on Jude’s shoulder was followed by a gentle shove. “Better not keep her waiting.” The flurry of activity that followed was frantic, Jude too busy to do more than take the passport Rob passed through the open window of Marc’s car once he, Louise, and their hastily packed bags were in it.
“You’re not coming to see us off?” Jude motioned to the empty backseat beside him. “Marc’s car isn’t like Betsy, you know? It can fit four people.”
Rob winced as though Jude had said something painful instead of joking, but before Jude could ask why Rob leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss to his lips. “Someone’s got to run this place.” He blew a last kiss as they pulled away from the Anchor.
Jude replayed that final moment as they passed cottages that were starting to fill with tourists for the summer, wishing he could have swapped the last kiss Rob blew him for a real one as Marc’s four-wheel-drive made taking the steep incline easy. Much easier than in Betsy, Jude mused. And as if summoned, there she was at the top of the hill, crimson paint gleaming as the guy from the car lot peered under her bonnet.
“I didn’t know there was something wrong with Rob’s car,” Louise said from the front seat, having noticed the same thing.
“Me either.” Although, maybe that did explain why he’d looked worried. Jude turned to keep her in view until Marc pulled out to join the traffic. Then he sat back as Marc accelerated and didn’t think about Betsy again until he was thirty-five thousand feet in the air, on the final leg of their journey.
High above landlocked mountains that resembled pond ripples rather than high peaks, Jude’s thoughts drifted. It was hard to believe they’d already covered as much distance as it would take the Aphrodite days and days to travel. Powerful jets instead of billowing sails transformed a return journey that Jude had dreaded making alone into a joy-filled sprint with his sister. And it was joy that filled this cabin, he decided, joy turning each glance he exchanged with Lou jubilant, each breath into an exaltation; he’d never felt so buoyant. Maybe Lou hadn’t either, if her constant smile was a metric, lifted like Jude from sorrow so deep it should have drowned them both already.
Smile still in place, Louise fingered the soft leather of her seat. “I’ve never flown business class before.” She stretched, relaxing into a seat Jude could never have afforded, and said, “I don’t know how we’ll ever pay Trevor back for the tickets, but I’m so glad he bought them. Let’s face it, we had nothing left to sell to raise the money in a hurry.”
Jude almost laughed at the thought of being able to do what Trevor must have, stealing away to purchase tickets online while the rest of them were still in shock and celebrating. Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, Jude frowned. “I’m not sure he could afford it either, to be honest.” Hadn’t Trevor mentioned that he still worked part-time to make ends meet?
“We’ll have to think of a way to repay him when we get back. Put Rob on the case,” Louise said, her eyelids drooping. “He’s good at solving problems.”
Something about what she said niggled. Jude mulled it over, tugging at mental loose ends as Louise slept.
Trevor mentioning that he didn’t have much of a pension….
Rob shaking hands with someone as though they’d come to an agreement….
None of them had anything left of any value to sell, apart from…
Jude suddenly sat upright. “Oh, no.”
Apart from Betsy.
36
As the ground of a whole new continent rushed up to meet the wheels of their plane, Jude tried to set aside what Rob had sacrificed for them, but gratitude still warred with dismay as they walked past baggage reclaim. Gratitude won out once they set foot outside the door of the arrivals terminal. The sight and sounds of the city would have been shocking, as overwhelming as the heat and humidity if it hadn’t been for the cool gaze that met Jude’s.
“Skip?” Jude had forgotten what sea legs felt like until the captain of the Aphrodite steadied him with a firm handshake.
“It’s Tom, remember?” His handshake turned into a brief but welcome hard hug. “Unless calling me Skip is your way of telling me that you’re coming back on my payroll? Good timing now that useless sauce-pot who replaced you has run off,” he said as he let go only to hug Louise as well. “And you must be the sister.” As she pushed frizz back from her face, he added, “Goodness, but aren’t you the spitting image of your mother?”
Louise finally lost it, crying while still smiling all the way to the hospital through streets full of beep-beep-beeping traffic. She blotted her reddened eyes with a tissue and asked Tom, “How come you knew to meet us?”
The look Tom cast Jude’s way was cryptic, difficult to translate until he answered. “Someone who insists he’s your boyfriend told me what time your flight would get in.”
“Marc,” Louise said, happy.
“No.” This time, the glance Tom threw Jude’s way said plenty. “Someone called Rob, who hasn’t got off the satellite phone since you took off. Seems seriously invested in knowing you both got here okay.”
Jude found it hard to hide his happiness when maybe he should have felt awkward. Even hearing Rob’s name this many miles from home lifted his spirits so much that he couldn’t keep from grinning. “Yeah. That sounds like Rob.” In fact, hiding how he felt to spare anyone’s feelings was impossible. He couldn’t do it now, and never would again, Jude knew. Rob had given everything that he owned to make Jude happy. He deserved more—everything—so Jude was going to give it. “I’m seriously invested in him, as well,” he said.
Tom considered that before nodding. “Didn’t have you pegged as the settling-down type.”
“Me either,” Jude confessed. “But don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Oh, I think that ship sailed long ago for me.” His eyes narrowed. “Does he know what you need before you do?”
“So often it’s annoying.”
“And he’s easy on the eye as well?” He sighed when Jude nodded. “Then you’d be a fool if you didn’t try your best to keep him.” He finished by saying, “Good for you,” and Jude believed that he meant it.
Tom asked their driver to take them to the far side of the hospital, something that Jude only understood when he noticed the gaggle of reporters at the hospital front door. “Your parents are quite a big news story.” He showed them the way to the right floor, leaving them with a doctor who explained a laundry list of minor injuries and infections that Jude couldn’t tune into. The doors of the room they headed towards seemed to recede no matter how fast he walked. He broke away, trotting first, then running, Louise hot on his heels as he barged into a room that held two strangers. “Oh. I’m so sorry—” he started before Louise asked, “Mum?” her voice tiny.
Jude discovered that time could speed up as well as slow after that first drawn-out moment. His heart tugged against the strings that bound it, skipping beats before lurching, just as Jude did across the room on legs that barely carried him to the chair where his dad tried to rise to meet him. His father’s embrace made every single too-long, too-lonely moment spent searching worthwhile, each endless hour a labour of love he’d have continued forever if it meant getting to hear his dad’s gruff whisper thanking God, over and over, as though the sight of Jude and Louise was something he too had prayed night and day for.
And while the next hours were jumbled, crowded with medics running through test results, and with consulate officials sent to steer their way through a sea of media attention, all Jude took in was how his dad hung onto his hand as if Jude was his anchor, which reminded him so much—so fucking much—of how Rob had turned out to be his.
He felt that truth despite the distance b
etween them, Porthperrin a whole world away from this city’s foreign bustle. Rob was his anchor and more, each horizon between here and home sure to be empty without him as Jude’s focus. He saw similar in his parents, both tracking each other’s movements, conscious of each other in a way that needed no words—hadn’t his whole childhood—but Jude dug deep and found some. They slipped out, but he meant them. He needed his dad to know from the outset of this second chance they’d been gifted.
“I wish… I wish Rob was here.”
“Rob?” His mum asked when his dad was silent, light pouring through the window turning her sun-bleached hair into a halo.
“Me too,” Louise agreed. “I’m not sure we’d be here without him.” She met their dad’s gaze and held it. “Or without Trevor. We’d never have found you without him, but it was Rob who found Trevor for us.”
His dad’s reply was hoarse. “Really?”
Jude was certain. “Yes. Rob’s been amazing this whole time.” He took a breath that for once didn’t feel like it might be his last, one that fear of judgement couldn’t cling to, not when everything they’d made happen together was so good. How could he feel otherwise when Rob had rewritten the end of his family’s story? Jude focussed on his mum’s far too thin face, drawing strength after he saw Louise’s quick nod in the periphery of his vision. His extended exhale was a release, carrying words that he once would have left deeply buried.
He was honest, and it felt easy.
“My boyfriend is amazing.” It didn’t matter, Jude decided, whether his dad maintained the silence that Jude grew up hearing as loud as a siren. All that mattered was that Jude broke his own, scaling a mental wall as steep as the headland between Porthperrin and its lost beach. He clambered, imagining Rob there at the top with a hand extended, ready, as ever, to help him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have Rob.” His eyes welled as he added another honest statement. “I don’t want him to leave the Anchor.”
Maybe words from his dad weren’t all that Jude needed, right then. His dad’s touch—grip on his hand tightening until Jude looked at him—was as welcome.
Jude saw past his deep tan and abrasions, beyond cheekbones the last few months had chiselled and stared into eyes he’d spent years avoiding. They were clear and focussed on him. “Does he have to, son?” Jude shrugged, and his dad seemed to draw in the same kind of deep breath that Jude had moments before, and exhale the same courage. “Do you love him?” His gaze wavered when Jude nodded, flicking towards his wife who loved him enough to take Jude’s place on their voyage, and then to his daughter, who’d fought to save their family business. Something he saw in them both seemed to help him find an answer. “Then ask him to stay long enough that I get to meet him.”
It took weeks to get home, and not because Jude had to sail back to Cornwall. This time, the delay was due to making sure that his parents took time to recover, each day filled with moments he knew he was lucky to witness, along with others that were much harder to accept.
“You needed someone to declare that we were dead,” his mum said, matter-of-fact, during one long discussion that took place aboard the Aphrodite, a safe place away from the prying eyes of the press who stalked them, desperate for all the gory details of their survival story. “That’s why you kept looking.”
His dad cut to the chase, something he did much more often lately. “You kept looking because you felt bad about your mum taking your place. Guilty, when you should have been my sailing partner. Ashamed, maybe.” He never avoided subjects these days, even if they provoked past discomfort. “Shame is an awful motivator,” he admitted after another long phone call with Trevor. “You have to know I’d do things differently if I could. Speak up for Trevor, like I first wanted, and for you, if I could turn back the clock.”
Jude did know. He studied the face of his watch as they finally flew back to England, thinking that some second chances only happened when you reached out. He’d done that via email, followed by a phone call to London before they boarded their flight home. They arrived to find a Range Rover waiting to carry them back to Cornwall in comfort, but the driver looked worried. “Are you sure?” Rob’s dad asked after making sure his passengers were safely aboard. “Are you certain he’ll want to see me?” His frown as he loaded their bags was so familiar. He shut the boot and faced Jude. “We didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye when he worked for me.”
“Yes, he’ll want to see you,” Jude told his boyfriend’s father. “And not seeing eye-to-eye is normal, but silence won’t make anything better.”
“I’ve been trying, I sent him a card. Thought he might respond to that, at least. I call as well, but he doesn’t pick up.”
“He wants to.” Jude peered through the Range Rover window to see his dad watching. “Sometimes it’s hard to know how to start talking, but if Dad and I can do it, I think you two will figure it out as well. Just promise me that you didn’t send that reviewer to scupper us before we’d started.”
“No! Jesus, is that what Rob thinks? No wonder he won’t take my calls.”
“Phone calls won’t fix it,” Jude promised, aware, so aware, that face-to-face was where it mattered. “Besides, it’s time you saw what Rob made happen.”
Jude felt as if he held his breath all the way along the M4 and M5, only starting to breathe with ease when they hit the A30, the last miles whipping past in a blur of gorse and slate rooftops. Landmarks barely registered until Rob’s dad took the turning off the main road that led to the village. They stopped at the top of the hill for a few minutes, and Jude drove the last half mile home, his dad seated beside him, wiping his eyes more than a few times. “Never thought I’d see Porthperrin again,” he admitted.
“It’s a bit different to how you left it.” Jude took the last curve and bumped gently across the cobbled surface of the harbour to pull up outside the building that meant so much to them all.
“I can cope with change as long as I have you.” His dad gripped Jude’s knee. “All of you, exactly as you are, with whoever makes you happy.”
And there was Rob, walking from the direction of the boatshed, so gorgeous he hurt to look at. He stopped short when he saw the Range Rover, side-eyeing it before slowly jogging over, speeding into a sprint as soon as Jude got out of the driver side door to help out his parents.
“Hi,” Rob said, out of breath and flustered. “I’m—”
“Jude’s boyfriend,” his dad said as if those words were easy, could have been this whole time, if not for a single decision he’d always regretted. “Very pleased to meet you.” They shook hands until Jude’s mum demanded a hug. The minute she let go, Rob turned to Jude.
“What the hell are you doing with my dad’s car?” he blurted before hauling Jude into an embrace he’d dreamed of.
“I missed you too.” It was the easiest thing in the world to hold Rob then, as natural as breathing and twice as needed. “I called your dad while we were away. Asked him to help get Mum and Dad back in comfort.”
“Surprised he had the time to take your call,” Rob said, his hold reminding Jude so much of his dad’s grip from only minutes before that he did his best to emulate him. Jude went ahead and said exactly what was needed. “It’s stupid that both you and your dad are too proud to say sorry to each other. He shouldn’t have assumed you wanted the same as him, and you shouldn’t have left without explaining.” Jude couldn’t have cared less that what he said next was choked with emotion. He held Rob and whispered, “Life’s too short. You love each other. Having that—people who love you even when you’re a dick—is what makes the worst times bearable and the good times amazing.” He managed to get out a rough-sounding, “Why wouldn’t I want you to have that as well?” before Rob kissed him.
Behind them, Louise wolf-whistled but that didn’t make Jude break off. Instead, it was Rob who did, finally letting go and backing away only at the low rumble of Betsy’s engine. She pulled up next to the Range Rover, Rob’s dad getting out, a touch green around the gills wit
h nerves.
Jude left them to their own family reunion to help his parents inside, turning just in time to see Rob’s dad extend a hand.
Betsy’s keys dangled, catching the light and glinting, a peace offering if Jude had ever seen one. And like the steep hill out of the village, Jude’s heart soared upward when he saw Rob accept them.
Epilogue
Summer’s end at Porthperrin
* * *
After a fully booked dinner service, Jude restocked the bar long after midnight. He paused, a crate of bottles in hand as Rob’s laughter spilt from the office. Jude couldn’t explain why that sound meant abandoning his last chore of the night any more than a moth could say why the light was so alluring. All he knew was that he was compelled to draw close when more laughter rang out, loud in the quiet of the Anchor where almost everyone that Jude loved was already sleeping.
Unobserved, he leant on the doorframe, soaking up the sight of Rob as he finished a phone call.
“Yeah, I had a great day, thanks,” Rob said. “Up at the crack of dawn, rushed off my feet all day and night, barely a moment even to open your card, until now.” Rob retrieved a greeting card from the desk that wished the best son in the world a happy birthday. “Well done for resisting the urge to…. I dunno, send a gift-wrapped Range Rover.”
Jude wondered if Rob knew how much warmer he sounded these days. He hoped Rob’s dad heard that same thawing.
“Listen, there is something you could give me for my birthday if you wanted.” Rob sat up straighter, hand tightening around the phone receiver as if he needed to steel himself before asking. “Will you give me some advice?”
Advice? Jude was pretty sure Rob’s dad would give him anything he wanted, no matter how complex, but Rob’s request turned out to be simple.
